Wilde by Abby Brooks
Chapter Sixteen
Amy
“You hungry?” Leo points to the line of food trucks across the street, strategically parked across from the stadium, vying to catch as many hungry, inebriated patrons in their web as possible.
One look at the lines and any interest I have for something wrapped in a tortilla fades if it means trading one-on-one time with Leo. I pull on my coat as a cool breeze whispers through my hair. “I’m good for now. You?”
He scans the throngs of people huddled together and shakes his head. “Maybe on the way back.” Taking my hand in his, he twines his fingers through mine. “Did you enjoy the show?”
I hmm and haw as I pretend to weigh the evening against other major life events. “Let’s just say this definitely counts as one of my top three greatest nights ever.”
“I didn’t know you were such a fan of redheaded pop stars.”
I stop walking and tug on his hand so he’ll meet my gaze. “You’re the reason tonight made top three. Not Collin West, or the lights, or the glamour, but you. Wilde. With an E.”
He stares so long I’m afraid I’ve said the wrong thing. That he’s about to disappear behind a veneer of jokes and sarcasm to keep me out. But then his thumb traces my knuckle and a smile graces his face. “Having you here made the night pretty special for me too, Skips.”
He starts walking again and I follow in silence, appreciating the energy of the city, the feel of my hand in his. His palm is callused in places, but his skin is soft and warm and his fingers twine through mine with the delicacy of something precious. “Honestly,” I say after several quiet moments, “watching you work, obsessing over every detail as you went. That was unforgettable.”
Leo laughs, his gaze at his feet. “If you think that was a better show than seeing Collin West live, we need to get you out more.”
I study him as we walk. We both shared the exact same experience. Free tickets to a sold-out show. The freedom to walk around backstage like royalty. Met, and hung out with, Collin freaking West—and his entourage. The difference is, I’m so keyed up I could sprint through a 5k and he’s so chill you’d think he does this kind of thing all the time.
Ummm…that’s because he does do this kind of thing all the time.How can his family not see what an amazing man he is?
“Watching you work was surreal. The instant you laid your stuff out, the whole cocky, I’m-too-cool-to-care-about-anything vibe you constantly put off vanished. You were here, but at the same time, not. Are you always like that when you work?”
“You tell me.” Leo raises my arm and rubs my wrist with his thumb. “You’re already wearing my ink.”
Blushing, I look away. “That doesn’t count.”
He smiles. “Why? Because it only lasted twenty seconds?”
“Hush, you.” I swat his arm. “No. I was…distracted.”
His smile doubles in size and his chest puffs up as he inhales a deep breath, then, without saying a word, he sighs, slides his fingers back through mine, and resumes our walk. I’m dying of curiosity to know what just went unsaid, but Leo makes a proverbial U-turn with his topic change before I build up the confidence to ask. “Whatever happened with the douche nozzle? You haven’t mentioned him in a while.”
My brows scrunch together as I attempt to translate. “You mean Avery?”
He nods. The moon is bright behind him, casting his face in shadow, allowing me to appreciate his profile. The more I get to know him, the better looking he becomes, which is saying a lot because he was the hottest man I’ve met from day one.
I drop my gaze to my feet. “That’s a not-so-funny story.”
Leo bumps my shoulder with his. “Go on.”
With a tsk of my tongue and a serious eyeroll, I explain. “Until last week, he was pretty much gone. Or I thought he was anyway.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I walked out to my car last Friday and there, held down by the windshield wiper, was a bouquet of flowers.” I grimace, remembering the drop in my stomach when I saw them there.
Without changing his pace, or his tone, or even the charm in his voice Leo asks, “Why didn’t you say something before? I’ll take care of it.”
Just like that. As if his ‘taking care of it’—whatever that means—is so simple and straightforward and obvious I should’ve known to leave it to him in the first place.
“Oh really? And how will you do that? Will you go to his house and beat him up? All to defend my honor?” I bat my eyelashes like a damsel in distress.
Leo stretches, then rubs at a spot on his shoulder with his free hand. “I’d talk to him. And if that didn’t work…”
I look him over, trying to decide if he’s serious. “You do know you can’t go around beating people up in real life, right?”
He looks away, taking in the area around us. “Sure you can. There are dozens of reasons that put a man within his right to stand up for himself.”
“And one of those reasons…reasons for you to defend yourself involves Avery stalking me?”
Leo nods. “If I don’t like him doing it and he isn’t smart enough to stop, then yeah.”
Not for one second do I doubt the weight behind the threat. It feels kind of amazing to know I have someone ready to stand up for me like that. That’s not a feeling I’ve ever had before…with anyone. Least of all Avery. If he thought someone was stalking me, he might hire a lawyer to file a restraining order, but he’d never confront them. Outside of his tantrum at Plinky’s, I can’t even imagine it.
Leo hits me with a look I can’t unravel. “What have you done about it?”
Sheepishly, I shrug. “Groaned and hoped somehow that would make him stop.”
“I like my way better.”
Embarrassed, I realize I hold the power in this situation. “Hey, wait a minute. I’m not the one seeking redemption points. I say enough about me for a while. Let’s get back to you.”
“Fair enough. What would you like to know?”
“Tell me what draws you to…draw. Or paint, or tattoo, or any of your artistic endeavors.”
When his eyes hit mine, the rest of the world fades away. I drop my gaze to my feet to break the spell.
“Growing up on our ranch like I did, I always used to hear my brothers talk about the place. Hank would go on and on about some trail he’d cut in. Chet would obsess about the weather and if we’d had enough rain based on the color of the fields.”
I nod slowly, trying to cobble together some deeply insightful thought. “And you hated that?” I ask when I come up empty.
“No. But it did confuse me. As far back as I can remember—I’m talking earliest memories—bobbling around on the front porch kind of thing. I remember staring off that porch for hours, but I never saw any of the things they talked about.”
I slide my hand out of his and slip under his arm as we walk, tucking into him. “What did you see?”
“The beauty. It’s everywhere you look out there. One of my favorite things was watching a storm roll over the mountains. In your head you knew it was at least fifty miles away, but it was so big the lightning still scared you. I’ve spent my whole life trying to capture that, and I’ve never gotten it right.”
“I think you should show that side of you to your family.” I peek up at him, hoping not to overstep any boundaries because he sounded so damn hurt in the car. “If they could see the side of you I’m getting to know, maybe it’d go a long way towards healing what’s broken.”
“I don’t know, Skips.” He shakes his head. “I just don’t know.”
“Think about it, at least. Communication isn’t always easy. But it’s important.”
He nods, lost in thought. We wander back to the car, tangled in each other and one thing is for certain. Redemption points redeemed.